Why You Will Be A Great King
by Attenia
Summary: The night before his coronation, Aragorn is plagued by doubts over whether he can be a good king to Gondor. Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir do their best to reassure him, and many years later, Aragorn returns the favor.


Aragorn tried to sneak out, but he should have known that would never work. He'd barely gotten a few feet from his chambers when a familiar voice came from behind him.

"Can't sleep, Estel?"

"It would seem that neither can you, mellon nin."

Legolas chuckled, walking up to join Aragorn in his stroll down the hall. "Hardly. I just knew a certain human would rather spend the night pacing worriedly than doing what any sane person would do and rest. It's only your coronation tomorrow, after all. I'm sure the audience won't mind if you fall asleep mid-ceremony."

"Don't remind me," Aragorn moaned. They reached a bench in a small indoor garden and sat down side by side. "This was a horrible idea, Legolas. I can't be king! Faramir should do it, he'd be great. I'm going to bring Gondor to ruin."

"So predictable, mellon nin," Legolas sighed. "Listen to me, Estel. You are going to be a wonderful king. There are a hundred reasons why Gondor is lucky to have you, I've told you this before. I have been your friend for decades. I have followed you as you led the Fellowship to victory. I have watched you lead the rangers. You are a good leader, gwador. You will not fail in this."

"I wish I had such confidence." Aragorn dropped his head into his hands. "What if I mess up? When you're the king, your mistakes are measured in lives! How do I live with that?"

"Much as you already have, I suppose. You are no stranger to battle. Lives are sometimes lost. It's tragic when it happens, but for the rest of us, life goes on. We can only honor the dead."

Aragorn squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the pounding headache he'd had all day. He wondered if he might not just be sick the moment Gandalf tried to put the crown on his head.

"You will not be alone, Estel," Legolas said softly. "I will be here for you, as will Gimli, and of course, Arwen."

"Arwen?"

"Don't tell your Ada, he'll kill me for ruining the surprise, but Arwen is coming tomorrow. She hasn't changed her mind; her choice has been made for a long time. This is everything you have dreamed of. You will be wedded to the woman you love, you will finally take the throne of Gondor…"

At the last part, Aragorn's stomach heaved and he clamped his lips tightly shut.

"Now would be a good time," Legolas called out. Aragorn glanced quizzically at him, but the prince just smiled.

The next thing he knew, something was hitting him hard in the back, and he tumbled onto the grass. His face was full of black hair as he struggled to escape the flailing limbs that had him.

"Just as Legolas suspected. You are too predictable, little brother."

"Elladan? Elrohir?"

"Who else would come and save your sorry hide from your own insane doubts?"

"You know, I'm not sure I want to bow down to someone this dumb," Elladan mused, still not allowing Aragorn to get up. "If he thinks for a moment that Gondor won't prosper under him, perhaps we ought to have Ada look at his head before the crowning."

"Shut up, El, I –"

His brothers didn't wait for him to reply, but rather, lifted him by the arms and legs and started carrying him through the palace halls.

"El, what are you doing? Let me down, I'll call for a guard!"

"No you won't," Legolas snorted, lending a hand to help restrain him. "You won't disturb their rest when you're not truly in danger. Dear me, what a terrible king you're going to be, so inconsiderate of your subjects."

Aragorn ground his teeth and struggled to get free, but he was unsuccessful. His idiot brothers and equally idiotic best friend carried him all the way out of the palace and to a nearby lake surrounded by trees.

He thought he saw where this was going. "Don't you dare…"

Too late. Legolas and the twins tossed him high into the air. Aragorn only had time to gasp in a breath before he was plunged into icy water. The three elves shed their outer clothes and joined him, trying to dunk him under again.

A furious battle ensued. Aragorn wasn't sure at what point he started having fun. The sounds of their laughter carried in the still night, but no one came to disturb them. He quickly forgot the cold of the water and focused on catching Legolas to dunk him, but the prince swam better than a fish.

What must be hours later, they found themselves lying on the bank, panting. Aragorn's heart was lighter than it had been in months, even if he was shivering.

"If I have a fever tomorrow, Ada's going to kill you both." At the thought of tomorrow, his smile faded. "I'm still not sure it's a good idea. I'm sure Faramir would –"

"Sounds like someone needs another dunk!" Elladan lunged for him, dragging them both back into the lake, and it all started over again.

By the time they were once more out of the water, Aragorn's sides hurt from laughing. "I'm going to murder you. All three of you."

"The dictionary of Estel," Elrohir intoned with a straight face. "I'm going to murder you – direct translation: thank you. Do not confuse with "I'm fine" – direct translation: I am dying and in desperate need of assistance."

Aragorn aimed a kick at him, which his brother dodged. "I think you've confused that last one with the dictionary of Legolas."

The prince rolled his eyes, but didn't argue, knowing he had no argument; he had a bad habit of concealing his injuries that had caused Aragorn no end of grief in the past.

When they finally returned to the palace, still chuckling, the twins insisted on heating water for a bath for him. Not a bad idea, considering how hard Aragorn was shivering. After a quick bath, he fell into bed, exhausted but warm and happy. He found something sitting on his pillow.

It was a small book, handmade and gilded in wood and gold. The title read:

_Estel_

_Why you will be a great king…_

Each page was numbered and devoted to one reason, lovingly written out in Legolas' elegant hand. There were small illustrations and decorative vines drawn in the margins that he could tell were also done by the prince. He flipped to the first page.

My dearest friend, as foolish as you are about such things, I know that you will need to hear these words many times, though honestly, Estel, even the blind should be able to see these things that you cannot see in yourself. I have told you many times there are a hundred reasons you will be a good king. Perhaps you thought I was exaggerating. I was not. Here they are:

You are a natural ruler. It is in your blood. Additionally, you have plenty of experience, both with the rangers and with large armies in months past.

You care about the people and want what's best for them. Many rulers care only for themselves. You will do what is truly good for those you are responsible for.

You learn from your mistakes. There will, of course, be times when you mess up, but you are a quick learner and never afraid to admit when you are wrong and rectify it.

The people trust you – both the common people and the army and nobles. You have proven yourself to them. Without your assistance, Frodo would never have destroyed the ring, and we would currently be under Sauron's rule.

You have strong allies in high places – the prince of Greenwood, the Lord of Imladris, Gimli and his influence with the dwarves, Éomer, and your grandparents in Lothlorien, all of whom will support you when Gondor is in need.

You have a good, pure heart, one that when put to the test was not corrupted by evil, nor do I believe that it ever will be.

The list went on all the way to number one hundred: You are surrounded by people who love you and will support you, no matter what. I am honored to count myself among that number, and I shall do so until the day you draw your last breath. I will be with you always, Estel, brother of my heart. Never doubt that.

Signed, Legolas

Aragorn wiped away a few stray tears as he clutched the little book to his chest. He fell asleep with it in his hand, and a smile still on his lips.

He kept the book in his pocket the next day throughout the coronation. Over the years, he referred to it many times, though less as time went by and the words were slowly imprinted in his memory. Legolas never failed to smile when he saw his friend lovingly caressing the pages, smiling at the words that had comforted him so many times.

It was many years later when Thranduil sailed, and Legolas was reluctantly crowned king of Greenwood. Naturally, he was plagued with many of the same doubts that Aragorn had had before his own coronation.

Of course, the twins helped. Legolas nearly escaped as he was dragged to the nearest lake, but Aragorn managed to re-capture him at the last moment. After hours of laughter and splashing, Legolas returned to his bed chambers to find a little hand-made book on his pillow.

With trembling hands, he lifted it, recognizing Estel's handwriting.

_Legolas_

_Why you will be a great king…_


End file.
